Scarlet Holmes: It's Elementary My Dear Sherlock
by Starlordjr
Summary: Molly left twenty years ago, after the incidents of series 4. Sherlock and Watson live their lives the way they had before. However, when a young woman shows up at Sherlock's apartment stating she is his daughter, things are about to get a little crazy. Not to mention slightly dangerous! Oh, thrills are in store! Rating T for now.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Unexpected Introduction

I stood outside 221b Baker Street on that cold wintry day. It had started snowing ever so lightly on my face. It was helping me to have the strength, or will, to walk through that door and up to those steps to see him.

I had planned this for a year, two months, and three days. Although, I had planned every tiny detail starting from the bus fair to actually speaking to him, I felt unprepared. Once I found out about the man, Sherlock Holmes of 221b Baker street, I had a mixture of emotions that were unnatural. I had always known that I was a mixture of both my mother, and my father who I had only heard about.

Now, within the next few minutes, I was finally going to understand exactly what that meant. I finally got the gall to reach out my slightly shaken hand, and turned the knob. When the door opened, all I saw was black floral prints, stairs, and a door on the right-hand side. My the faint smell or perfume and yeast, it is obvious that an elderly woman must live down in that room, and must own the bakery connected to this building. I could not help, but to walk towards the door and snoop around. The door was unlocked, giving me the idea that the woman was starting to become senile, making an estimated age of 85 or 86.

" Ello' there," I jumped and turned around. Just as I deducted, it was an elderly woman. She had mostly grayed hair, with light brown highlights. " Are you looking for Mr. Sherlock Holmes lass?" I could only respond with a head nod. " Well, his office is upstairs. I could show you if you'd like?" I looked down at the floor, and nodded again. " Ah, seems like we have a shy one. Well, don't let Sherlock scare ye, or else it might be difficult with whatever you need him for."

" Is he really all that much of a jackass? Or, from what I have heard of Mr. Holmes."

She looked at me, taken aback," Well, apparently you can talk." She smiled at me. Most might find this pleasant, I found it slightly appalling. " I wouldn't say he is exactly that, more of a tint of ass. But you get used to it. He really is a wonderful man, once he opens up to you." I nodded. We finally arrived to another door similar to hers, only, it was wide open.

"Is he here?"

" Oh no, Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson are out on a case. He always leaves it open. Really is unsafe ya know. However, you are welcome to stay inside and wait until they get back if ya liked."

" Yes madam."

She chuckled," Please, call me Mrs. Hudson, everyone does. Would you like a cup of tea Miss?"

"I would be delighted." She smiled, and left to her part of the building. I just stared at the room. From the hall, you could tell it was a slightly messy living-space. The furniture was out of date, and you could tell by the dust which pieces were used the most. Also, stating by the cluster of books and notes that this room was both a bachelor pad and office space.

I also happened to notice piles of music composition paper, along with a violin that had not been put away from activities from, based on the lack of dust, some point this morning. I had taken that up about two years ago, and could not control the temptation to pick it up.

It was possibly handcrafted with ivory in 1990 or 1991. It was almost time to change the strings before there is no possible way to tune it to perfection. I grabbed the violin and the bow, a piece that was composed, and placed it on the music stand. It had no title yet, but it had really intricate rhythms. I started playing the musical composition. It was beautifully composed; it had a mixture of emotions that only few could comprehend. Sadness, anger, pain, fear, and insecurity.

" Well well well," I stopped abruptly. " You're lucky I caught you, or else Sherlock might have a fit." I slowly placed the instrument down, and I couldn't turn around. " Are you going to turn around, or stay there facing the wall."

I slowly turned around and saw a man. He wasn't tall, or incredibly short. He had short gray hair, wore a checkered shirt, patch jacket, jeans and boots. He stood up straight, looked at me directly, fighting stance if something were to attack at any moment. Giving me the idea that he use to be in the military. He was eyeing me, not exactly suspiciously, but in confusion. It was like he saw a familiar face, but did not recognize who it was" I'm sorry sir, I just could not help myself."

He continued to study me," I am sorry to be so abrupt, but have we met before?"

I looked down," I am sure we have not come across each others parts before Mr. Watson."

He eyed me again," How do you know who I am if we have never met before."

" Well, based on the fact that Dr. John Watson was in the military, and happens to be the famed partner to Sherlock Holmes, and by the fact that you continue to stand in a fighting stance, and along with you eyeing me a a way one might look at their prey, it would suggest you have a background in the military. So, based on this, it is painfully obvious that you sir, are Dr. John Watson." He looked slightly shocked, but not surprised. " I also saw your picture on your blog. I can put two and two together."

" Well, since you are here, you most likely need help with a case?"

I looked down at the floor again," No, I actually have other business involving Mr. Holmes."

He eyed me again, " Alright, since you know so much about me, may I ask who you might be?"

I took a deep breath," The name is Scarlet."

He waited for me to continue," No last name then?"

" That is to be determined." He continued to study me. I could feel his eyes trying to form a logical understanding on why I was so familiar, and why I was so cold and nervous.

" Are you sure we have never met before? Are you possibly, I dunno, related to someone I might know?"

I chuckled, and gave him direct eye-contact. I knew that some sort of weird epiphany formed into his mind. " You could say something like that. The only difference is that it's more than just one."

" John! I think I figured out the..."

...

A few minutes before, in another part of a building.

Mrs. Hudson had just left Sherlock's apartment with the young girl waiting in there by herself. Curious, she looks and acts so familiar. I wonder why, thought Mrs. Hudson as she traveled down the stairs, and headed into her kitchen to heat up her tea. While she waited for the tea to continue to boil, she couldn't help but trail her mind back to the girl. She continued to attempt to put the pieces together once she heard the door and two familiar voices echoing her ears. " John, the fact that Lucy found him in the tub, completely dry, without a trace a blood or poisoning, there is another way that Mr. Webster had been murdered. Most suicides are sloppy, and leave a gigantic mess. So why would he be clean and be the his own killer?"

Mr. Watson sighed, " Sherlock, he may have just died peacefully, has that not crossed your mind?"

" Oh of course it has John," Sherlock practically belted," but if he did have a stroke or heart attack, why on Earth would his tie still be up to his neck? It is painfully obvious that he would have attempted to undo the tie, and unbutton his shirt due to the shock, and the idea it will be easier for him to breath."

" Boys," both men turned around and looked at Mrs. Hudson ", there is another client upstairs. She's a shy one, so Sherlock, don't give her too much of a fright."

John Watson chuckled," Yes Mrs. Hudson, I will make sure he won't send this one crying like the last one."

" Yes yes, be polite, and all that other junk. Come Watson, let's get this taken care of before this current case is solved."

" Sherlock," the detective groaned in annoyance," I need your help with something down here."

He groaned, and rolled his eyes," Oh Mrs. Hudson, why can't John do it?"

" Because I asked you. Now get down here and help me!"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and muttered," Bloody chores."

" I heard that," muttered Watson back. " I will take care of the client for now while you help Mrs. Hudson."

Bloody woman, Sherlock thought. Watson just chuckled, while Sherlock watched him walk up the stairs. " Mrs. Hudson, what is it you need that takes time away from working on my case."

Mrs. Hudson chuckled," Come here love, I need your help with tea."

" Tea? The case that I need to use all my brain power, is interrupted because he cannot pour a simple cup of tea? My my, how lazy the world has become."

" Sherlock? What is it that we talked about with people?"

He groaned and rolled his eyes, again," I need to take the time to help a neighbor, and not be a pompous-ass about it. Happy?"

She smirked," Yes." She led him to her kitchen where she had tea bags sitting there, and four cups of tea," Can you please take the tray up there for you, Watson, and you client?"

He groaned,"... yes Mrs. Hudson." He acted like he was watching Mrs. Hudson as a way to go and think back to the case. A man who is perfectly clean and perfectly dressed, dies in the bath without so little as evidence of suicide or murder. What am I missing?

" Sherlock, about this client, she seems awfully shy, so do not scare the poor girl." She was unaware that he was not paying any attention to her, or their conversation. The pot started to boil, and she poured the hot water in the cups, watching the chemical reaction." Funny, but she seemed awfully familiar. She sort of remind me of that sweet girl you use to work with... oh what was her name? Is' on the tip of me tongue. Strange thing is, she had a hard time showing her face. Wouldn't look me in the face. Very peculiar. Must be what young people do."

Sherlock suddenly burst from his thoughts. " That's it! That's how it was done!" He quickly grabbed the tray, without so much as a thank you to Mrs. Hudson, and practically raced up the stairs to tell Watson his recent deduction.

" John! I think I figured out the..." But Sherlock slowly stopped once he saw the woman in the room. She had short black curly hair, light blue green eyes, and a pale complexion. She wore a black overcoat, white blouse, jeans, and tall combat boots that were slightly loose at the top. She also wore fingerless gloves. It was apparent that Mr. Holmes was studying her, but had a hard time known her motives for being here. She had only shown slight emotion in her eyes, but her body was very well-guarded. " John, who is this?"

Watson had broken from his current state," OH, um... Sherlock, this is Miss Scarlet, I am sorry, I must've forgotten your last name."

The girl smirked," I never gave it."

Sherlock continued to eye her, She is obviously nervous, but not because of a case. Why then? " Miss Scarlet, it is painfully obvious that you are not here for a case, so I must ask you to either leave this building and go about your business, or state your full name and the reason why you are here."

She chuckled nervously," So it is true, you are quiet an observant fellow there Mr. Holmes. It certainly contrasts the nature of your partner."

" Yes, but that doesn't answer my question Miss Scarlet. Now, tell me your full name and reason for being here, or you shall be escorted out immediately."

She did not respond yet. She just slowly walked over towards the tea tray, and took a sip. " Before I answer that question Mr. Holmes, how old do you think I am?"

He eyed her curiously, Why on Earth does she want me to answer this question? Is this a possible clue, or a trick? " Well, based upon the way you are standing and based on your outfit choice, it would appear that you are around 25 to 30 years old."

She sighed, Maybe he is not that grand as Mum said ," However it is painfully obvious that is not the case. You don't show any signs of aging the way most do when hitting thirty; instead, you are truly 19 or 20 years old. Based upon your dialect, and the fact that you have arrived at 10:00, when most are working "

She smiled, " I turn 20 in two weeks Mr. Holmes. I guess it isn't a lie, you are a genius. I guess it is also means you are a giant asshole."

Watson could suppress a laugh, which earned a glare from Sherlock, " Alright, since I have amused your childish antics, answer my question before I call the police."

She smiled," Certainly." She walked over, and grabbed the skull that sat upon the shelf above the fireplace." Since you guessed what age I really am, I might as well say this. Who left around 20 years ago from your life?"

He thought back, and his eyes became unnaturally alert, even for him:" Molly Hooper. What does she have to do with you?"

She scoffed," Apparently you haven't caught on yet, so Mr. Holmes, I will give you one more clue before I give up on your mediocre deductive skills."

" Mediocre? Your just a child, you do not even know what your fully doing."

" If so, then how come you have not figured out my true identity?" He didn't respond, " SO , as your last clue, let's think about why Miss Molly Hooper left, and the last time you saw her. If you haven't seen her in about twenty or so years, how might my age correlate with that?"

He thought, until he it struck him," She is your mother, correct?"

" Yes. My name is Scarlet H. The H could stand for two possible answers: Hooper..." she said slowly as a way to impress Sherlock Holmes, along with giving him a moment to process the new information. "... and Holmes."

Both men stopped in their very spots. " Wait, " said John," you and Molly...? And your their daughter?"

She did not look towards their direction," Yes. That's why I came; thought I might actually take a look at the famed Sherlock Holmes." She had finished her tea, and walked towards the tray. " Thank you both for your time and tea. Tell Mrs. Hudson I appreciate the bland tea, for I will let myself out. Good day." She fixed her coat, and walked out the door without looking back at the men.

They both stood in silence for a few minutes. " Well... that was... unexpected."

Sherlock looked back at his partner and scoffed, " Tell me about it."

A.N.

Hello! So, I had posted this originally yesterday, but it did not seem to show up on my phone, so I am just reposting this. I hope you enjoy!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: An intellectual Observation

Third Person Point of View:

Sherlock scoffed,"Tell me about it." The men continued to stay in silence. " Well, I am positive that I know how Mr. Webster killed himself."

Watson looked at his friend in complete shock , " Um, Sherlock, don't you want to discuss-"

" The very fact that Mr. Webster is clean, along with properly dressed, it is hard to understand how he had died, along with the fact that there was not any signs of a heart attack. However, what kind of poisoning could affect a man without leaving a trace? Answer: Carbon dioxide poisoning."

" Sherlock."

" Once the Carbon dioxide hits the brain, the body is completely useless, making in apparent that someone took out the oxygen in the room while filling it in with Carbon Dioxide. The question is who would do it and why?"

" Sherlock!" The detective turned around and looked at his friend. " For once you need to get your big head out of a case and figure out what is going out with your own life! You just found out you have a twenty year old daughter, and you are talking about a dead man instead?!" Sherlock did not answer. " Well? Answer me damn it! How do you feel about all of this? I mean, it's no small deal."

" You don't think I know that, John? I find out that I have a daughter who only came just to see who I was, at Twenty years old. Now John, how do you think I feel?!" Watson did not respond verbally, but responded by giving his closest friend a solemn look.

" Sherlock, why didn't you tell me about Molly?"

Sherlock sighed, and walked over to his chair and collapsed. " John, it had happened all at once. Molly had just told me she was moving to Edinburgh, my mind was not under my control." Watson nodded in understanding. " I was so distressed about her move, although I probably couldn't blame her, but it just happened. Then, she left the next day, and we haven't talked since. Now I know why." Watson sat across Sherlock, and started twiddling his thumb, " John, why wouldn't marry tell me that we had a daughter?"

Watson groaned, " Well, you are not exactly a parental figure."

" I'm Rosie's Godfather."

" But that doesn't mean that you have any parental skills. Sherlock, you are not exactly someone I would expect to be a father. You never babysat Rosie-"

" What about all those awful ballet recitals? Can't that count?"

" Frankly, no Sherlock. You would have to be patient, which your not. You would have to give all of your attention on them, which you can't. And finally, you have to be aware of their feelings, which you still struggle with, but have vastly improved." Sherlock glared, and looked away, not wanting to agree with Watson even though he does. " Sherlock, Molly probably had her reasons for not telling you. I do not know the exact reasoning, but I can understand part of it." Sherlock sighed in response. " However, from that brief encounter we just had with Scarlet, she is certainly not an ordinary kid." Sherlock looked at Watson at the corner of his eye, " If I were you, I would go after her, but only is you would want to start some sort of relationship, or at least get to know her."

Sherlock thought about what Watson said I am unsure, do I really want to have the whole ' father daughter' relationship with her? The room had become silent again, until Sherlock made his decision. He stood up, and grabbed in coat and scarf, and bolted out the door.

Watson smiled as his friend walked away, " Thats a boy Sherlock."

Sherlock walked down the streets of London for over an hour when he finally saw Scarlet. She had just walked out of a cafe, with a large travel cup that had a light brown stain at the lip of the lid making it apparent that she was having a hot cup of coffee with cream. She did not seem to see him, so she just walked on by herself. How could I have helped produce her? He thought. She walked exactly like Molly use to; discreetly, but poised. From a distance, she was almost the spitting image of her mother, except for her curly hair and light blue green-eyes.

She started walking towards a park while he followed. I should observe her a bit before I walk up to her, get an understanding of her a bit. She continued to walk around the park, until it seemed like someone had singulars her through her phone. She grabbed it from her left pocket, and read who it was. She looked for a park bench, sat down, and then answered.

Sherlock his behind a tree thirty feet away from Scarlet and her bench. Far enough to avoid her attention, and close enough to hear the conversation. " Hello Mum." Sherlock stiffened at the mention of Mum. He knew that Molly was on the other line, and was trying to take control of the multiple emotions that had started to form within him. " Yes, the interview went very well. It was very… educational." Scarlet was stiff when she answered.

Why would she lie to her mother about an interview? Does Molly not know about Scarlet coming to see him? But, why?

" Oh yes, I probably scared the man out of his pants during the interview no doubt about that. But I think it went very well, but to be honest Mum, I'm not going to let my hopes up about this college." Sherlock studied his… daughter… a little bit more. You could see the doubt on her face. " Thankfully I have another interview Friday that should might be better."

Another interview?

" Yes Mum, I packed an extra jacket and set of gloves." He chuckled. Same old Molly, still taking care of everyone. " No Mum, I am not going to buy five more sweaters; you already packed seven in my luggage without me noticing. I'm on to you." Yep, same old Molly. " Alright Mum, I love you too. I will be home in a few days. Tell Bruce I say hi. Bye Mum, Love you."

" I love you too… Molly Hooper." Scarlet our the phone away, and continued to sit. She was obviously thinking back on the conversation with her mother. Why on Earth would she lie to her mother? Sherlock thought again. He finally decided to grow the galls to talk with his daughter. Before he had fully gotten there, Scarlet spoke, " So, how long have you been watching me, Mr. Holmes?"

He walked up to the bench and sat down next to her, " Since you left the Coffee shop. By the way, you got cheated out of your money; there's a better one up the street that's better, and won't cheat you out of money." Sherlock looked over and studied Scarlet. Although she had many physical qualities that reminded him of Molly;most of her face looked similar to his own, except rounder, and she had her smile.

" So, I am guessing you have formed a couple of questions that you may or may not have answered for yourself yet. Ask away."

He just looked at her still. She showed no emotion, and just continued to drink her coffee. " How long have you know about…"

" You being my mother's sperm-donor?"

He almost choked on his own spit, " Well, I wouldn't exactly say it in that context… but yes."

She smirked, " Exactly one year, two months, and two days. I planned on coming here to actually see you face to face the day after I found out."

She's known for the long? " Alright, next question: does your mother know you are here?"

She didn't express any emotion. " What do you think the answer is?"

Sherlock studied her, " I think you planned this without your Mother's knowledge."

She tapped her nose, " Ding ding ding, we have a winner folks!"

" Why did you lie to your mother?"

" Technically, I only told a half lie. Yes, I have two interviews occurring this week, but one it on thursday while the other is on friday. I just simply forgot to mention that I was coming early to see you. There is a difference."

" Why wouldn't you tell your mother?"

She groaned and rolled her eyes, " Wow, for such an intuitive man, you really can't figure out the answers without help. Such a shame."

He groaned, " As you should know young lady, that I am a genius. The only reason I keep asking questions is because I lack the information that revolves around this… situation."

She scoffed, " Well if you are the 'clever' Sherlock Holmes, than I expect you to come up with a logical answer."

He thought for a minute, " Your mother did not want me to know about you, or she doesn't know that you know who your birth father is."

She smirked," Both. I found out about a year ago about you giving up your genetics, then she told me that you were in no place to suddenly find out you have a child with her. Is that a satisfactory answer sir?"

He eyed her, " I guess." Both sat in silence. Sherlock continued to study Scarlet, trying to figure her out. He did not like known what she was like. It actually bugged him more than if he had with a client. She was annoyingly hard to read.

Scarlet did not even look towards his direction. She was staring at the park, watching the sticky children running around like some sort of monster. However, what really fascinated her were what appeared to be their parents; they looked down at their children lovingly, and seemed to encourage them with mundane activities like playing catch, or tag. " Children are truly depressing."

He eyed her, " Why would you say that?"

" Isn't it obvious? All they see is rainbows and sparkles, while the grow up to understand the realities of life. They are too innocent."

Sherlock thought about what she said. " But you were like that as a child; innocent."

" HA! That is the funniest thing I have heard you say since we've met Mr. Holmes. I was not a child; I was an adult by heart by the time I hit three. As you said back in your office, I am only 19, but I resemble a 30 year old."

He listened. " I must say that from the brief time we have had with each other, I agree that you are not a normal person."

" I must get that from your side of the family"

He smirked, "I suppose so." Scarlet had finished her coffee, based upon the fact that she had the lid facing the concrete. " Do you happen to like fish and chips?"

She looked at him," Possible…"

" I know this place where they give me more than I need nor want, shall you join me?"

She studied him, " Why not. Might be the one time we actually interact with each other, might as well take advantage."

He was taken aback by the harsh statement, " What makes you say that?"

" Because all your attention goes towards a case; you are too preoccupied to acknowledge your family."

" That's not true."

" No, it is a fact."

He sighed, " I am your father, weather we can control that or not. I would have made time for you if I had known sooner."

She looked at the ground and thought, " No," she finally said. Then she looked at him , " You are only Sherlock Holmes to me, and that will never change." He couldn't respond. Finally, she stood up, " I think I might pass on the food Mr. Holmes. I wish you prosperity in both your career and life. Good day."

She walked away from Sherlock, without any thought of looking back, just like before. And just like before, Sherlock was left stunned. If she doesn't want to have a relationship, why did she come to London?

Scarlets POV:

I had started walking away from the park bench, feeling his gaze follow each step. I did not know why I talked to him in that way. I mean, the whole point in coming here was so I could see what he was like, that's it. Once I saw him and told him who I was, I was done. Go home, forget about the whole thing.

So, why did I suddenly want to know more about him? I mean, Mum had told me about some of the things that she was involved in, or had happened when she use to live here. Shouldn't that be enough?

My thoughts were interrupted when I got an alert from my phone. I looked at the screen where all it said: What happens when the tortoise loves the hair and has a rat? They all get caught in the spider's web-M

I had no idea what that meant, or who sent it. So, I just ignored it, even with the sinking feeling in my stomach.

A.N.

Hello again! So, I updated this one rather quickly. This is not going to be a common thing, but I hope I can post a couple times a month! I am really enjoying writing this fic! Maybe too into it?

Starlordjr Out!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Games Are On

Scarlets POV

It was around 9:00, and I was still up. The crappy part about my mind is that it never stops; so sleep is usually a challenge for me. For most who could sleep almost at will, I have to dose myself with sleeping vitamin upon sleeping vitamin so I could gain at least four hours of sleep.

However, tonight my mind was racing even faster than before. I kept replaying that whole conversation with Sherlock Holmes for the past hour. He seemed different from what I had planned for, and yet, exactly what I had expected. His deductive skills were decent, but they were obviously stuck because of the news he recieve, which is somewhat understandable. At the same time, he also seemed curious about me, which seemed odd.

For almost two years I had prepared myself for him to just to deduce me like one of his 'cases' I've read. But that was the complete opposite.

I decided to distract myself by watching the tele. I flipped aimlessly through the limited channels provided at the lousy hotel I was staying at. I finally flipped on some old Monty Python movie. I had probably seen it before; I used the dialogue as a way to distract myself, even if I wasn't really following along.

Then, my tele started to turn static. I didn't think much of it, until the screen turned black. Then, it typed: _Hello.. Scarlet Hooper Holmes._

That caught my attention. It continued to type: _'Tis a pleasure to have you visiting us. I hope you got my previous message; would be a shame if you lost it._

This is M? Who is he? And what the bloody hell does this nut job want?

 _You must be curious as to how I even know about you, and why on Earth I have contacted you?_

" Well no Shit."

 _I decided to test your deductive skills, to see if you truly are the heir to Sherlock Holmes, or just another poser. If you solve my little riddle, you might as well be able to save Sherlock Holmes and John Watson._

Oh God, what did he do to them?

 _The first case I gave for Sherlock Holmes with his partner, and in what building location?_

His first case with M and Watson? How could I possibly figure that out if I have no idea who —M is?

 _You have exactly 1:30 minutes to figure it out. TTFN—M_

Then, the tele switched back to The Holy Grail. I immediately grabbed my coat, keys, and ran out of the hotel _. What on Earth was their first case? And who the bloody hell is M?_ I ran in front of a cab, and jumped in. " 221b Baker Street, and step on it!"

" Ah lass, want te' see Miste' Sherlock 'Olmes Huh? Well you bet!"

" Oh don't tell my your bloody life story; take my to Mr. Holmes office NOW!"

" Crabby… alright Miss, I'll get ya there."

It takes an estimate of twenty minutes on foot, ten minutes by cab with traffic. That left me at least one hour to figure out the case. " Their first case? I should bloody know this."

" Oye, you mean the first case on Watson's blog? Oh that's easy, the study on Pink. Sheesh, almost every Holmes fan knows that!"

 _A study in pink? Maybe that's what M was referring too?_ I looked up Watson's blood, and trailed back to the oldest publication: A Study in Pink. I skimmed the beginning until it mentioned the two buildings.

" Sir! I need you to take me to the Roland Further Education College! Now!"

The cab driver was annoyed, " If you insist Lady…"

45 minutes left to go

It took more time to get there than needed because the cab driver wanted to obey the damn rules! When we finally arrived, I burst out of the car, and ran. " Aye! You didn't pay me!"

" It's on the bloody backseat!" He continued to mutter some nonsense, but I just ran to the two identical buildings. 35 minutes left. I stood there trying to figure out which building the two men were at. I looked at the doors for signs of disturbance. The only thing I noticed was the smell of gasoline. I also noticed the hint of a metallic aroma. _A bomb possibly?_ I trailed to the house on the left, where the aroma thickened.

" HOLMES?! WATSON?" I ran down each hall, searched every room. " If you both can bloody hear me, yell, or make noise or something!" _Both are most likely being gagged._ I checked the time: 17 minutes left.

I had no time to wait for them to respond. I went up the next level, where the smell had become even more petured. I raced closer, and closer until the smell was overwhelming. " Mr. Holmes?! Mr. Watson?" I heard muffled sounds. " Bingo." I burst through the door. Both men were chained to the wall, gagged, and blindfolded. The room was filled with gasoline all over the floor, and a timer was placed in the center of the room. It had 12 minutes and 32 seconds left. I carefully raced over to where the men were chained. I ungagged them and took of their blindfolds. " Well well, looks like you both must have really pissed of this M guy."

Watson looked at me, " Scarlet? What on Earth are you doing here?"

" No time Watson, we all need to get out of here before that timer goes off, and then we all bloody die."

" She's right Watson, we need to get out of here immediately." I couldn't find a way to directly remove the chains from the wall. I looked around and saw a chair. I grabbed it and hit the wall; it took one blow for the separation.

" Alright, we're free. Now, let's head towards the exit." Watson

" No," I stated, " The place will blow out before we even make the last floor." I sprinted towards a window, covered my face, and broke the glass to jump out. Sherlock followed right away, and Watson moments after. We all sprinted at our fastest speed away from the building. When we were 100 yards away, the building exploded. Shattered glass came towards our direction, and Sherlock Holmes protectively covered me from impact. Once we knew it was safe, I pushed Sherlock off of me. He looked at me, and it wasn't reciprocated.

Then my phone started buzzing. _My, you are a clever girl. Next time, it won't be easy. Tell mummy and daddy I say hello- M._ " Is that how you knew about us?" asked Sherlock.

" What do you think?" I said with a glare. " Now, who the bloody hell is M? And what the hell did you both do to piss him or her off?!"

Both men looked at each, and they were having a private conversation. " Moriarty…"

Hours had passed. An emergency vehicle and policemen had arrived a few moments after the building was destroyed. The medics insisted I wear a heavy blanket which had no affect on me, whatsoever. Sherlock was talking to some sort of detective. Watson was sitting next to me; he had not spoken to each other whatsoever. I was observing the interaction with the officer and Holmes. Both men seemed distressed. The Detective was way more obvious, while Sherlock had a calm facade.

" He's really something, isn't he?" I turned and saw that Watson was also watching the two men across.

" I've seen better," I stated matter a factly.

" Oh really? Who on Earth is more fascinating than Sherlock?"

I eyed him, " That is something you can figure out on your own."

He did not respond, which was pleasant. I looked at the men across, and a third party came in. He had a women's short haircut, and a beard. I could tell right away that he bugged Sherlock. I let out a small chuckle. " What?"

" Mr. Holmes really doesn't like that man, does he?"

Watson looked at what I was motioning at, and chuckled, " Yep, Anderson and your father always seemed to butt heads with each other."

" Really? I thought almost everyone didn't get on with Sherlock Holmes?"

" Well," he started," that isn't a lie. However, the more time you spend with him, the easier it is for him to grow on you." I turned towards him and studied his face. He was bloody serious, " Why did you come? You act like you don't care for Sherlock; why did you come to London?"

I sighed, " Mr. Watson-"

" Call me John." He smiled, and I returned the favor.

" John, to be honest, I have no bloody idea why. I had this notion when I first found out about… well, you know, it might have been… different. I had no idea what I was getting myself into."

He looked at me. I could tell he was a very emotional man. For someone who had worked in the military, he truly had a connection with his emotions. However, it was obvious that he also tapped into some unruly emotions that he tried oh so very hard to contain. He was compassionate and caring; however, he also enjoyed seeing everyone's inner darkness.

" John, Scarlet," I broke from my thoughts and turned to see Sherlock with the detective from earlier.

The detective held out his hand, " Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade, pleasure to meet you, even with the… unpleasant circumstances."

I gave him my hand, " Yes, it is a nice to meet you, even though though Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson almost died." His already grim expression increased.

" Yeah… that."

I took a quick glance at Sherlock: He looked annoyed that we were not acknowledging him. He had a calm face, but he was ready to burst some snide remark, but was trying to hold back. It was funny to watch him squirm. " Detective Inspector Lestrade thinks we should all be under surveillance." Lestrade groaned at Sherlocks interjection.

" Can't you ever be bloody patient? It's annoying."

" I find patience to be quiet dull, and too wasteful of one's mind and body. Waiting for something is more pointless than getting something over with."

Lestrade gave Sherlock a look of annoyance, " Look, it doesn't matter. All I want is for you Watson," he looked at the Doctor straight in the eye, " call Rosie, and you both spend the night at your home. Meanwhile," he said as he looked towards me, " I would like it if you would stay with Mr. Holmes for the night. And call your parents to let them know what happened."

I looked at Lestrade, and then to Mr. Holmes. He looked just as shocked as I was, " Well… Detective-"

" Please, call me Greg."

" Greg, I am not exactly sure that my mum would be alright with that… due to the fact that she doesn't fully know why I'm here…"

Lestrade looked amused, and unfazed. He's probably use to that sort of thing. " Unfortunately Miss Scarlet… I'm sorry, but I didn't get your last name."

" Um…" I quickly glance at Sherlock, and then back to Lestrade, "... My last name is Hooper, sir."

" Hooper… You wouldn't happen to be related to Molly Hooper by any chance?"

I started at the ground, " She's my mother sir."

He chuckled, " Well I'll be, Molly has a kid? Oh boy, she certainly got busy, hey Sherlock," he elbowed Mr. Holmes in the arm, and was returned with a glare. " Well Miss Hooper, you will have to tell Molly. I know you are probably going to get an earful since she's your mom ( and it's probably worse with Molly ) she needs to know about your whereabouts for safety purposes. You understand Miss?"

 _Well that was incredibly rude,_ " Yes Mr. Lestrade. I will tell her then. Can I borrow your phone please?" He handed it right over.

As I started walking away, I heard hm and the other men talking , " Well blimey, Molly's got a kid. Damn a lot's changed. I wonder how someone got to bag that little fireball, eh Sherlock."

" Greg…" I heard Watson speak, " please shut the hell up."

" Wonder who the father is?"

" I told you to shut the bloody hell up."

I ignored the rest of the conversation and typed a number, " Hello?"

" Hey mum…"

" Scarlet? Where are you? Is everything okay? Are you hurt?"

" Mum, I need to tell you something… about this trip that I might have left out…"  
_

Third Person P.O.V.

After the crime scene was cleaned up, and the investigation had died down, everyone decided to settle in for the night. Sherlock an Scarlet get a taxi and went to her hotel (Sherlock was disgusted with the appearance, and deducted that Scarlet was its only and final visitor) and headed off to 221b Baker Street. The drive was silent, the only noise that could be heated was the running engine, and the unhealthy breathing coming from their cab driver.

Sherlock, for once, did not want the attention on him. He studied Scarlet when she grabbed her things and came into the cab moments before now. She had two instrument case: a trombone and a flute case, and then one suitcase that was expected for her clothing. From the looks of things, his daughter was a music major. From the knowledge of her flute and trombone case, along with her steady hand with the violin and ability to sight read ( especially with penmanship likes his which add to the difficulty ) she was obviously skilled. He looked at her right hand; it seemed to replicate the motions on a piano, especially when she was in deep thought.

 _She does have a lot to think abou_ t, he thought. When he realized that she had entered the building, it was slightly shocking. Why would she save him and John, especially when she seemed to only want to her norm their genetic similarities and nothing more? He also kept thinking about Molly. It was unlike her to hide their daughter from him. I mean, he did know she had a child, but didn't expect that child to be his. But my my, she was the spitting image of her mother and father.

When the cab finally stopped on Baker Street, Scarlet and Sherlock immediately jumped out of the cab. Scarlet grabbed her things, and refused help when Sherlock offered it. She was stubborn. They were immediately stopped by Mrs. Hudson (who had been informed about. Scarlet's intentions and was incredibly excited) who insisted that they both have a cup of tea to soothe their nerves. When both had finally entered Sherlock's fiat did Scarlet speak, " Where should I put my things?"

" You can sleep in my bedroom for the night, if you would like."

She glared at him, and placed her things on his sofa, " I'm fine here." She opened her suitcase where it held a few bottles of things didn't recognize. _Oh God, she can't be like him with drugs… can she?_ " This is only melatonin and Valerian root. I can't sleep without it. For your information."

He released the air that he had subconsciously holding in. He continued to watch as the young-Hooper, Holmes?- finished grabbing her nightly necessities. He did notice back at the old explosion that Scarlet had been wearing her coat and night clothes when she came to save them… he still couldn't believe she saved them. He was about to speak when , " Teas all ready loves. Hope you enjoy it." Mrs. Hudson held a tray with hot tea, and two empty cups. Once she placed it down, she grasped Sherlock and pulled him aside , " Sherlock, don't try and make her too uncomfortable, I mean, she's had a hard day's herself you know." They both observed his daughter from afar, who could obviously sense their talk was about her.

" Mrs. Hudson, I-"

" Oh shut the bloody hell up Sherlock." He was slightly taken aback from her abrupt behavior, " Your daughter needs to open up on her own time. She cannot be pushed; because Sherlock, the more you push,the farther she'll go."

He, for once, took his landladies advice and nodded in response. She smiled, and then left the room. Leaving the two-Holmes/ Holmes and mini Hooper- alone…

" I'm hitting the sack. Night." Scarlet didn't let her father have a chance to speak before she took her night time vitamins, and went to bed. He knew she wouldn't fall asleep for awhile, but he left her so she could sleep.

—

Hours had passed, and Sherlock has woken up. It was 4:30 in the morning. Always 4:30. He always woke up from the same nightmare, at the same time. He decided to do what he normally does at 4:30 in the morning: grab a patch, and make a pot of coffee. He was in his usual habit that he had almost forgotten the fact that his daughter was asleep in the other room. He went to Billie, where Watson believe he could hide his patch's, and then he remembered the events from earlier. She was asleep, peacefully, and uncomfortable. Her ponytail had fallen out in her sleep, so her curls had covered her entire face.

She also seemed to be thinking while asleep. Her eyebrows were furrowed, even thought she was asleep. Her mouth was closed together, and she seemed silent. Sherlock couldn't help but notice how she had habits of both himself and Molly in her sleep. Like in a trance, he walked over, and brushed her hair out of her face, and behind her ear.

 _How could Molly and I have made someone like that?_ He couldn't help but think. Molly was beautiful, so those genetics were of no surprise. But how did he help create that?

" She's really something… huh Sherlock?" He turned and looked at the voice. A voice that he did not forget about.

" Hello… Molly Hooper."

She smiled back at him. She then saw her sleeping daughter. " Looks like the Game is on, for both of you."

A.N.

Hello! My gosh, I am incredibly thankful that I still have Wifi! In my hometown, he have almost TWO FEET of snow! Trippy! Anyway, I am so happy I can post another chapter! I think I enjoy having Scarlet be so mean to Sherlock... maybe too much? ( Cackles).

Anyway, wherever you are stay warm, R&R, and I hope you all have a wonderful week!

Starlordjr out!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Family Reunions… or, Government Meetings

Third Person P.O.V

" Looks like the Game is on, for both of you."

She had changed, but not by much. Her hair, where it use to be tied up, was cut at shoulder length and she had side bangs. She had the slightest of wrinkles at the corner of her eyes. Other than that, she seemed to be the same Molly Hooper he remembered.

She walked on over to their daughter, and softly brushed her hand over Scarlets face. She didn't stir, but came closer to the touch. Sherlock could tell the two were close. He also saw that Molly was nervous, and was trying to postpone the conversation that she was dreading.

" Molly, I think we should talk." Molly didn't look at him, but sighed. She continued to stare at her daughter. " Preferably now."

She chuckled, " You certainly haven't changed Sherlock. Still as impatient as ever." He couldn't help but feel his ears turn slightly pink; it wasn't too noticeable. Finally, Molly slowly stood up, and walked towards his kitchen. He followed her. She was looking at his unorganized table, filled with dangerous chemicals and unidentifiable body parts. She was unfazed.

" When is her birthday? I know it's soon, but I have no idea how soon." Sherlock tried to start the conversation off slowly. Yes, it has been almost twenty years since their last— and definitely intimate— encounter, so he knew she needed to start off slowly.

Molly gave her awkward smirk to him, " January 8."

He eyed her curiously , " Her birthdays two days after mine?" Molly nodded. " Interesting."

" Trust me, the irony has not alluded me."

He nodded. " I see your divorced." Molly looked up at him, and before she could ask how he knew, he said, " Clearly your ring finger is empty, but the flesh is in the shake of a ring. By the look of if, an uncomfortable ring that correlated with an distasteful marriage. Judging by the imprint of the ring, you've been divorced, or have at least felt emotionally detached, for about three years." Molly just twisted her hair with her finger while he talked. " Did I miss anything?"

" Yes," she stated, which formed a perplexed look on his face, " I have been separated for two, divorced officially for a year. You never could be exact when it came to time… Sherlock."

He placed his hand on his face, which is common when he was in deep thought. " I suppose you are right." He was trying to go to his mind palace and find the words that would be proper for the questions he had for Molly.

" So let me guess," she started, "why on Earth didn't I tell you about Scarlet?" said Molly. Sherlock eyes her. " Common, it's not like I haven't learned a thing or two about using my deductive skills."

He chuckled, " Well, I can see that. With both me and Scarlet always deciphering people and objects, it isn't surprising." Then, an incredibly awkward silence filled the room. Sherlock, who was always impatient, then quickly burst out, " I had a right to know Molly. It is unacceptable that I had to find out when my daughter was almost twenty years old."

Molly sighed, and started playing with her hair, " I know Sherlock. Trust me, it was not ideal for you to find out this way. I should have told you, but-"

" There," states Sherlock, " is no but. You should have told me. Preferably while you were in your second trimester."

She eyed him mockingly, " Why not the first trimester?"

" Because there are many complications that can happen before the second trimester, such as deformities and- wait, that is not the point!" He couldn't help but notice Molly smirk (and her subtle way to change the subject), " I want to know why you didn't tell me about her?"

Molly's shoulders slumped, and she looked at the table , " I-I was going to tell you Sherlock… actually, I had planned on visiting you when Scarlet turned two, and to have you meet her."

He stood aback, " You were? If you wanted to, than why didn't you?"

She sighed again, " I was getting ready to pack Scarlet and I up for here when I was approached by a woman. She came in a black van, and took me in a car ride. She said I was forbidden to tell you about Scarlet."

She paused for a moment to let the man process. She was turning pale. You could see the fear dancing all over her body. Sherlock on the other hand, was just studying her. He knew her too well; she certainly wouldn't lie to him, this time. " You may continue.

She sighed, " She threatened you, she threatened me, and she threatened Scarlet. She said…" she was holding back tears. " … she said that if I told you she would send someone to hurt you, and for someone to take Scarlet away." Sherlock shifted from his seat. " In exchange for keeping the secrecy, all of Scarlets scholarly needs would be provided for."

Sherlock stares down at the table. He already had suspicions on who he thought arranged all of that, solely based on the hush money. " I'm assuming that Scarlet was allowed to be informed about me when she was older, correct?"

Molly pauses for a moment, trying to find the words she knew were swimming around in her cluttered mind. " She was not suppose to be informed…" she started, ".. but she was expected to figure it out on her own. If she asked about you, she would have been allowed to know about you Sherlock."

Sherlock thought over what she said. " Did that barbaric woman say Scarlet could see me on her own without any harm being inflicted on you or her?"

Molly twisted her hair. He almost forgot she did that when she was nervous, " That's the thing Sherlock, I have no clue. They never said anything about that."

Sherlock stood up, and walked to his coffee maker. " So," he started while preparing some needed coffee, " you think those threatening messages and events from yesterday are revolving around your blackmailed agreement, correct?"

Molly chuckled at his deduction skills, remembering how impressive he was with figuring everyone's inner thoughts and actions. " Yes, that's why I was worried." He nodded in response, while washing the counter from any ground coffee-bean spills that he knew occurred. " I also did not know she knew that she figured out about you Sherlock."

" You didn't?"

" No. Scarlet and I are close; I'm the only person she will tell everything to. I don't know how long she has known."

" One year, two months, and three days." Both Sherlock and Molly turned their heads towards their mini them. She looked like she had been up for awhile: her hair was back in a tight ponytail with a shower afterglow. She was wearing an olive-green button up blouse, black jeans, and socks.

" Don't worry, I won't tell anyone about your guys secret to anyone else," she started. " That's why I have a feeling Mum is on to something."

Scarlets P.O.V

I had woken up when I felt a hand fixing my hair, and then realized Mum had arrived to Sherlock's flat. I got myself dressed and started for the day, while they were talking. They had been in there in total silence for a half hour; I was shocked they didn't even notice the shower running.

" That's why I have a feeling Mum is on to something." I stated. I looked at Mum. I could see the worry all over her face.

She stood up, walked right up to me, and then grappled me in a hug. With most people, I need to keep them farther than arms reach. However, Mum was the only person who was allowed to have intimate moments such as these. Her soft hair always rubbed against my cheek, which was soothing.

She broke the hug apart, and just stared at me, " I am so glad you are alright. I was so worried once you called last night."

" I know Mum. Really, I am fine." I crossed my arms, and gave my mom a smirk. " Besides, you should really be babying the Consulting Detective over there," I say while eyeing Sherlock, " he was the one who almost died, not me."

Mum just grinned and sighed at me, " You know, that mouth of your will get you into serious trouble one of these days."

I rolled my eyes, " Yes, but until then I plan on telling people how stupid they all are to their faces until that happens."

Sherlock just eyes me warily, while Mum just chuckled. " So, how about a nice cup of coffee, what do you think Sherlock?" She turned and looked at him for an answer. He seemed awfully quiet for himself.

" Yeah, coffee sounds about right…" He then noticed how he was the worst-dressed in the room. " I just need a few minutes to change, and then we can get some coffee."

Mum nodded, and then Sherlock practically sprinted to his room to avoid us. What a bloody shock. " So," I heard Mum start off, " when are your actual meetings with the colleges this week? I'm assuming that one was scheduled at a different date than what you actually said."

I looked down shamefully, " Thursday, and then I have my second one on Friday."

" Listen, I am not mad, but I am incredibly disappointed that you lied to me."

" How is it that I am in trouble for lying about my meetings for a week when you lied to Sherlock about my existence for almost twenty years?" I say while crossing my arms.

My mom turned a slight tint of pink, " Touché." I smirk which calmed her down. However, before we could say anything else, two men had suddenly appeared in the living room. Both men were almost six feet tall, and muscled. One was right handed while the other was left handed. The left had around three small dogs, while the right handed man had two kids under the age of about ten.

" Is Mr. Sherlock Holmes here Madam?" said the the right handed man. Then, right after that question escaped the baby daddy's lips, Sherlock had entered the room with a look of annoyance plastered onto his face. He was wearing a plum purple top, a black suit, and black loafers. I also couldn't help but notice his hair was ruffled more than it was usually styled, and that there was a faint smell of cologne that trailed with him into the room.

" Oh…" he said in annoyed tone, " What the hell does Mycroft want now? Can't his cameras see that I am preoccupied to deal with his bullshit?"

Both intruders looked un-phased, " Mycroft Holmes wants you and these two ladies to be escorted with you. He has important business to discuss with all of you."

Sherlock was starting to turn livid, " I have more important matters than to deal with my brothers crap."

Both men were trying hard not to just grab Sherlock and chuck him(it is a funny visual). " The is a very important matter that relates to both your life and your daughters, so I suggest you come with us."

I could see Sherlock's gears turning in his head, trying to deduce if he should leave or blatantly ignore the advice. " Fine, but I am not going to be nice when we get there."

" You never are Mr. Holmes."

He flees and shrugged, " Fair enough. Come along Molly… Scarlet. Let's go see Mycroft." He grabbed his coat and walked down the stairs.

Mum just shrugged, and followed suit. I looked at the two men and groaned while grabbing my coat , " This Mr. Mycroft better have some coffee, or else he will be sorry."

We were all driven by one of those fancy government cars. The two bodyguards sat across from Mum, then me, and Sherlock (yes, in that order. Might I add, very uncomfortable tension between the two, and it is insufferable having to be with the icebreaker for the two). We finally stopped where we left the vehicle to then be led to an odd building in the country. It was not one of those nice, log cabin type house you would find out in the country; instead, it was a big, fat giant mansion in the middle of the woods.

" Well, I can tell this Mycroft guy sure is an outdoors-man," I say sarcastically. I walked along with Sherlock and Mom, as there physical go between, and we entered the extravagant country home. The bodyguards led us to a library where there was a teapot( which held coffee,thank goodness, based upon the smell) nice Victorian style sofas with floral print; small side tables with fliers or vines carved into the wood; and a bright, shiny chandler that hung above our heads. It was so big that it looked like it might drop in our heads if the ceiling couldn't contain the massive weight.

" Mycroft will meet with you in a moment."

Then, mom quickly asked, " Before you leave, could you please lead me to the loo?" She obviously did not even need to go, she just needed a moment to herself. The guard nodded and took her out of the room. This left Sherlock and I alone with each other. I took my coat of, and placed it on a coat rack that I had noticed a moment before, and then proceeded to the coffee. I grabbed three cups: one for Mum, Sherlock and I.

" How do you like you coffee Mr. Holmes?" I asked trying to be polite. I looked up; he was in deep thought, and I had interrupted it.

" Black, two sugars thank you." I nodded, and proceed to pour each cup. Mum and I both took cream in our coffee, but I usually put more in hers because I likes mine to still taste bitter. " If you would like Scarlet," he said as my head looked up towards his, " you can just call me Sherlock is you feel more comfortable with that. I know the whole 'Papa' or ' daddy' term is useless at this point, but I would prefer to not be called Mr. Holmes like my brother if you don't mind."

I smirked, and grabbed his coffee along with mine and walked with mine, " Alright… Sherlock." I handed him the coffee, and he took it immediately. I let him take a sip, " So, you still have a fancy for Mum."

He choked on his coffee mid-sip, and took a moment before he said, " I-I don't know what your talking about."

" Sure, because I'm under the age of Thirty right? So I couldn't possible have noticed that when you had returned to the scene in your flat that you were wearing a freshly ironed suit, and a nice purple top, which happens to be Mum's favorite color. Well of course you know, you knew her for a long time before she moved to Edinburgh. You also had made your hair more masculine as a way to impress her, along with a pinch or cologne." He started at me with no expression , " But then again, a nineteen year-old couldn't possible I have deduced that now."

I looked at him again, and I saw him giving me a mischievous smirk after me remake, " Well Scarlet, if I didn't know any better, I would say you would be the world's second greatest consulting detective."

" I study music si- Sherlock, not crimes scenes."

" Have you ever thought about it?" He asked looking at me quizzically.

I shrugged, " Probably."

Before we could say anything else, Mum and Dr. Watson entered the room. " John, when did you get here?"

" Um, just a few minutes ago."

" How do you like your coffee Dr Watson?"

" Um, black, thank you Scarlet." I quickly walked over and poured myself another, while preparing a cup for John.

I walked back to the older group with a cup for Mum and Watson, and the returned to grab my own. " Sherlock, why would Mycroft want to see all of us so early in the morning?" John asked the consulting detective.

" There a many possible answers to that question John." Then, the doors opened. It revealed an older gentlemen, with a limited about of brown hair on his head, a long pointy nose, and a perfectly tailored suit. He seemed cocky, and conceded. " But I believe we shall be finding out. Mycroft."

" Sherlock, Dr. Watson." Then he walked to my Mum and grabbed her hand, " Pleasure to see you again Ms. Hooper." Mum blushed, but not with pleasure.

He then turned towards me, and studied me, " Well, you must be my niece. Lets hope you mostly have your mothers quality traits than your fathers."

" What a shame." I responded. I could not help but enjoy his disgusted look.

" Mycroft, why the hell did you call for all of us this early? It really is a waste of time."

Mycroft smirked at his brother, " Oh come on Sherlock, can't we all have a moment to mingle before I give you the dark news brother?"

" No."

Mycroft frowned, " You really are a crab before your first case in the morning."

" Get the hell on with it Mycroft, what the bloody hell do you have us here?" I blurted out.

" My, you do have your father's mouth." He muttered , " Very well, now the reason you are all here has to do with late night into this morning."

" You mean how Sherlock and I almost blew up to bits?"

" Yes."

" Wait, what do you mean by into the morning? There's more to this, isn't there?"

Mycroft smirked, " My, you are clever. Yes Miss Scarlet, there is more that has occurred with your predicament than what meets the eye." He slowly placed himself on one of his sofas, and everyone followed suit, except for Sherlock and I. " After the building exploded last night, I had my men track the signal that it was sending. It was coming from a warehouse, one from one of your particular cases Sherlock."

I stared at him; he was processing. " The Warehouse in Addlestone."

Mycroft nodded, " After we tracked the signal, my men searched the building and found something that should interest both you and Ms. Hooper."

" And what on Earth would that be?" Then, Mycroft reached into his coat pocket and he pulled out a manilla envelope.

He handed it to mum, who opened it cautiously. I heard her gasp, and then she looked at Sherlock, and then me. " What is it mum?" She looked at me fearfully, and then handed the information, which I took forcefully.

There were a stack of pictures; pictures of Mum and I. They were not planned photos- intimate moments that were not supposed to be taken. The first was a picture of me after I fell off my bike; I was trying to extract more blood into my empty water bottle, while Mum was scolding me. Another picture was me at ten, I was home in our backyard digging, an I had found some old animal carcasses that I was going to dissect and study for the weekend. The last photo was of me talking at my college graduation with my… ex-step-father. That conversation was just between the two of us, not even mum knew.

I thought she only had surveillance over me. " Mr. Mycroft Holmes, when you found these photos, how were they placed in the building?"

Mycroft studied me, " They were neatly stacked on the floor in the center of the warehouse."

I stood up and started pacing. I shoved the photos into Sherlock laps- it was obvious that he was curious about the photos. " They were supposed to be there…"

" What? What do you mean suppose to be there?" said John.

" Why would someone stack photos of one childhood neatly, in the center of the room?" I glanced at the party and grabbed my cup of coffee, " Someone, has been planning this from the very moment I was born."

A.N.

Hello Readers! So... I know it has been awhile since I updated... lets just say life is crazy! I am in this college course program, and it is the end of these round of classes, so I have paper upon paper due. I am thankful that I had time to update! Please R&R! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! I am starting the next chapter as we speak(or, as I type).

Starlordjr Out!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Stalkers and Uncles...Or Businessmen

"Someone, has been planning this from the very moment I was born." I took a sip of my coffee. "There were only three people, who we know knew of Sherlock being my father: Mum, my step-father, and the person who threatened my parents. Now, mum would never be a devious as to threaten lives. Thomas was too much of a bloody idiot to concoct an elaborate scheme."

"Thomas?" Sherlock chuckled more than was necessary, "You got married to a man named Thomas?"

Mum groaned, "Yes, I did. And Scarlet, how did you know that Thomas knew?"

"Please," I started, "He had to pretend to be my father for the first few years of my life, of course he knew."

Sherlock, I noticed when I glanced to him, he was impressed. "However, it is most likely not this mysterious benefactor who is the cause of this." I waited for interjections from the rest of the group.

"So, are you saying that—oh, I dunno— that someone else knew about your birth?" interjected John.

"Precisely, John," responded Sherlock. " If it was the mysterious benefactor, there would have been an attack as soon as Scarlet arrived to my flat. This person, wants us to play their little game."

"Exactly Sherlock. This person wanted you to find these photos Mr. Holmes, but the question is who and why?"

I continued to pace around the room. "Yes, well, until then Miss Scarlet, I want you, Sherlock, John and Molly under surveillance for the next three days, or until you leave. That way we can catch whoever is stalking you and the family."

"Stalker, what stalker? And what is this about a mysterious benefactor you all keep mentioning, and leaving me out of?"

"Molly was threatened to hide Scarlets birth from me or else I would be dead, and she paid her through Scarlets schooling. _Catch up John!_ " Sherlock yelled. "Mycroft, since we have taken care of business, I believe it is safe to say it is time to go."

"Yes, of course brother. I think that everything is settled, you all will be driven back to Sherlocks flat." Mycroft started to escort us out, and Sherlock grabbed Mycroft by his sleeve and whispered something in his ear that I couldn't hear. "Sherlock, if I did that, I would have never threatened lives, but I would have offered more money. So no, it was not me brother."

Sherlock glared at Mycroft, and then released his brothers arm. I glanced at Mum, who's eyes bulged. He slowly started walking away when Mycroft spoke again. "Also, if I had made a deal of any sort, I would have made it so Scarlet never knew about you, and you would never have known about her."

He stopped, suddenly, then continued to walk out the door- like those words had not affected him greatly. Mum and John followed right after him. I stayed behind with the man known as my Uncle.

I turned towards my relative, "You truly are a manipulative jerk, aren't you Mr. Holmes?" I now had a stronger understanding for why Sherlock did not want to be compared to his brother.

He seemed to grin at my remark, "Scarlet, I am not merely manipulative; I'm a businessman. And as you will soon learn the older you become, the easier it is to have a businessman on your side than as your enemy. We make deals in order to protect others and ourselves, whether they like it or not."

I glared at him, "Even though you are a businessman, you are truly a scared little hermit who uses money and power so you won't lose. You hate to lose Mr. Holmes. Because if you lose a deal, then you're nothing." His grin shrunk slowly into nothingness after my statement. "It was nice to meet you Mr. Holmes, hopefully we will see each other under better circumstances and moods."

As I started to catch up with the others, Mycroft stopped me, "True Miss Scarlet, I do hate to lose any sort of game. However, the use of my status has been beneficial for our entire family. If anything, you should be thankful I provide to the family name. I know in the future, you also will have a need for this." I looked back at him, and glared. I turned around, and left the room. This was the one time I would not let my mouth get the better of me, for now.

John had invited my mum and I to stay at his flat until everything cooled down. However, Sherlock had fought over the whole ordeal and wanted us to stay at his flat. Mum was unsure, and used shopping as an excuse to avoid any confrontation. I return to 22IB with Sherlock and John. When we arrived, I decided to go and make another pot of coffee. I knew that today would be exceptionally long. I started looking for a coffee filter and grounds when Sherlock entered the room, observing me. "Coffee Sherlock?"

"Please." I nodded. I found a filter right away, but not the grounds. I decided to search the freezer. "Um… I wouldn't open that if I were you…" Too late. I opened the door to find miscellaneous body parts. The coffee grounds were on the top shelf. I grabbed them, completely unfazed. I could feel the shock bouncing from Sherlock onto me, but was contained with his natural frown. He said nothing. "Do you have a case you need to work on Sherlock?"

He groaned, "No, I already finished my major case I was working on, and no average cases have come in today."

"Fun." I was uninterested with the whole discussion. He needs to man up. "Hopefully something will come in for you to busy yourself with…" _And get you out of my hair for a bit._

He studied me before he spoke. "You want me out of the flat."

"Wow, caught again. _However do you do it?"_ I rolled my eyes.

"Please, it's painfully obvious. The sudden shift from your previous position facing me to the literal 'cold shoulder'. Along with-"

" And it is _painfully obvious_ that you cannot read sarcasm."

Before Sherlock could speak, a quiet knock engulfed the room with its sudden impact. We both walked in and saw the man, Detective Inspector Lestrade, standing in the center of the study.

"Finally come to give me a case Lestrade?"

"Nice to see you too Sherlock. Yes, we need to head down to the old Cathedral a few blocks from the park."

Sherlock processed, "I'm assuming you will give me more information once we arrive."

Lestrade chuckled, "They don't call you London's greatest Consulting Detective for nothing. Is John coming?"

On cue, John walked up from Mrs. Hudson's flat. " What am I doing exactly?"

Sherlock sighed, rolled his eyes, and grabbed his coat. "We have a case down at the Cathedral. Seems to be awfully important seeing as Lestrade is trying to fidget with his hand without our acknowledgment."

That's when Lestrade noticed me. "Morning Scarlet. I trust that everything's alright for you?"

I shrugged, "You could think that if you wish. However, if this investigation is truly this important, I would recommend you all head out to solve the case."

As I started walking back into the kitchen, Sherlock spoke at me: "You're coming with us."

"Why, May I ask, am I coming?"

He smirked, "Because you're supposed to be supervised at the moment, and Mrs. Hudson is about to head out leaving you alone, which we can't let happen now."

I glared at him. "That's true Miss Scarlet," said Lestrade, "you are supposed to be with someone at all times."

John just shook his head and sighed. I glared at both detectives, grabbed my coat, and walked in front of them out of the flat. _Great, just what I need, more bonding time._

AN:

Hello! So...its been awhile. I am so glad that I finally had the time to post this chapter up, and I apologize for the long wait! I also apologize for this being such a short chapter, and promise to make the next one even longer! Happy Summer Everyone!

Starlordjr out!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: A Church Murder…Or, Sherlock—Scarlet Bonding time.

Third Person P.O.V

He hated to admit it, but he was slightly relieved that Scarlet was with them. After all of the crazy events within the last twenty-four hours, he felt calmer that he could watch her closely. Although that was the case, he almost was regretting her company(based on the fact that her temper was a combination of both his and Molly's).

The whole walk there was accompanied with covers of huffs and eye rolls from the young woman. She mostly followed behind the group, because she was not accustomed to the streets, along with being dragged to the crime scene. Sherlock ignored this because he needed to save his brain-space for the crime scene. "Sherlock," said John who had walked right up next to him, "are you sure I can't stay back at the Flat with Scarlet? I mean, she might not exactly _want_ to see a case, or spends all her time with police. She has seen many policemen in the last few hours, and she may need a break."

"John, it is not exactly ideal for her to accompany us, but her safety is more important."

John looked slightly shocked, "Sherlock, I...I think that is the first time I've heard you say that about a complete stranger."

Sherlock looked at him through the corner of his eye, and then back on their path. "She is not stranger John; she is my daughter. Although I haven't been there for her before, it doesn't mean I have to ignore my responsibilities now." Sherlock continued to look and work straight ahead so the conversation would just stop completely. Thankfully their journey ended, and they were face to face to the cathedral. The usual structure and designs were accompanied by multiple officers, and police-tape covering the entrance. He studied the other officers; they were masking their nervousness. He also noted the multiple reporters that were attempting to sneak in, and then being caught.

"There's a murder, and we don't have to wear nice clothes. And people say that church is boring," said Scarlet interrupting Sherlocks thoughts. He turned when he started hearing John give a quiet chuckle.

He then noticed Sherlock's look, "That was funny, even you have to agree Sherlock."

He shrugged, "If you insist. I personally want to see this murder; thats more entertaining for myself."

As the gentlemen and young woman entered the holy building, they were introduced to a dark scene in the center of the whole church. A man—who was around his late-forties—was placed on the floor. He was wearing a suit that was now caked and surrounded by blood painted on the floor around him. However, the most peculiar part of the man was a pig snout that was sewn onto his face, along with a pigtail on his bum.

Sherlock walked up and took a closer look. John started to hold back the bile that was starting to form in the back of his throat. "Gosh Sherlock, I think this might be one of the most disturbing scenes I've ever seen," stated the Doctor, who was becoming increasingly nauseated by the sight before him.

"Come on Dr. Watson," said Sherlock with his mischievous tone, " am I to believe you're getting queasy? You've performed surgeries bloodier than this."

"It's not the person part that upsets my stomach, but the…non-human part of it."

Sherlock chuckled and immediately set back to his victim—scene. However, as he started his deductions, he saw through the corner of his eye, Scarlet. She was trying to act as if she was bored; however, he knew that look too well, because he wore it often. She was holding her tongue and opinions on the dead body lying in the church.

"What do you deduce Sherlock?" said Lestrade, breaking his thoughts away.

Sherlock stood up, "I would say that the victim was brutally murdered, twice."

Lestrade glanced at the victim with confusion, "How do ya' reckon that Sherlock?"

Sherlock started pacing around the subject, slowly and methodically. "It's quite simple really. There are multiple signs that explains his murder…" he trailed off while taking another quick glance at his daughter. "However, gentlemen, I am not the one who will be doing the explaining."

John started chuckling, and stopped when he noticed Sherlocks expression. "Oh, you're serious?"

"Yes, John, I don't have to always explain everything. Scarlet, come." Sherlock motioned his hands for her to come. As she proceeded towards the investigators, Sherlock handed her his magnifying glass, which had never left his position since the day he received it. "Scarlet here, is more than capable to deduce this crime scene."

John Watson and Greg Lestrade were quiet, until the detective-inspector started laughing. After the minute passed(and when he noticed he was the only one amused) he was in shock. "Blimey, are you being serious Sherlock?"

"Of course I am being serious Lestrade," he stated matter of factly, "I don't take these things lightly detective." He then turned to Scarlet and nodded.

"Sherlock, I do not think I should-"

"Doesn't matter if you don't think you should, it is if you can, which you are more than capable of handling."

"But I-"

"No buts, the only thing that I want to hear come out of your mouth is how the victim was killed."

Scarlets P.O.V

I looked at Sherlock. He seemed more serious, more _stubborn t_ han usual. He was looking at me like he was looking in a mirror. I couldn't tell if this was a good thing, or a bad thing. His eyes were speaking to me: _go for it_. I continued to look back at him for another minute, then I looked at Lestrade and Watson.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, then spoke. "Alright, but first, I'm going to need a ladder."

Greg looked at me, nodded, then yelled, "Someone find a ladder, and _now_!" A younger Officer, who happened to be standing nearby, swiftly followed orders. Lestrade looked back at me. "Go on."

I took another deep breath, and walked over the bloodstains that were on the floor, and then around the victim. "The victim, who is approximately 42, wait…" I took a closer look, "43 years of age. He was not killed one, but twice."

"Hold on," interjected Lestrade, "how could someone be killed twice?"

"Simple," I started, "if you observe the pigment of his skin, you can detect a yellowish green color, and a discolored bruise towards his chest from an apparent stab. However…" I bent over and pointed at his lips, "you can smell a tint of almond, or at least," I turned to the men and women of the law. _Lestrade...Sherlock...Watson…_ I then looked at a younger officer. He was approximately twenty-five years old. Him. "Sherlock, John, Greg, and you," I said pointing at the young man. "If you all come slightly closer, you will detect the almond scent, which only 40% of the population can detect. Conclusion: cyanide." I then walked to the young man. "Please set the ladder right on the outside of the big blood line please." Before he could respond, I walked back to the subject.

"However, it seems that whoever poisoned the victim did not give the proper amount of poison, so it took longer. The killer then grabbed," I bent over to the wound, and looked at the gash,"a knife, a twelve inch blade to be precise, and finished the job."

I then walked back towards where the ladder was set-up. "Thank you," I said to the officer, and I started climbing the ladder. I looked down at the scene. Once I knew I had a clear perspective of the image, I grabbed my phone, and took a photograph. Once I did that, I slid down the ladder, and landed on my feet. I startled the officer, and he fell down. "You can put that back now if you do not mind. Truly appreciated." He just continued to stare, which I simply ignored. I then walked towards the Detective Inspector.

"If you take a look at the photo, you will easily note that the crime scene has a particular placement that can only be noticed at a high-angle." He took a look of my photograph. You could clearly see the victim represented a small dot, and there were two semi-circles surrounding him; one was smaller than the other.

"Blimey, how'd you do that? I've only seen Sherlock do that…"

"Yes, well the scene is obviously a message. Whatever the victim did, the killer obviously thought that the message would be overlooked if she added the… _accessories_ to the victim."

I turned towards the others in the area. Lestrade looked flabbergasted. "Well…um...Sherlock?—What do you think about all of, well…" The consulting detectives expression was cold towards the inspector.

He walked towards the victim and I. He studied it for a brief moment, then looked towards me. I felt chills flow down my spine. However, instead of his usual bored and amassed mask he wore, it was removed so that a small grin could make its way out. "Scarlet has gotten everything correct from the smallest detail. Yes, the victim was given cyanide and then later stabbed. Then the pig parts were sewn onto his body, where he was placed in a methodical order to create the picture. However, there is only one small detail Scarlet forgot to mention."

I glanced at him. _What did I forget?_ "She forgot to mention how he obviously wasn't robbed based on the fact that his very expensive watch is still on his right wrist. The killer obviously chose him for a reason. Other than that, Scarlet is 100% correct."

Lestrade walked up towards Sherlock, and looked back down at the body. "Alright then. Let's take the body to Bart's. Maybe Clark can figure out who this person is. Good job Sherlock." Then, before anyone could say anything, Lestrade corrected himself, "Err, pardon, Scarlet. Great work."

Some of the other force members started transferring the body to the morgue. However, Lestrade seemed to still need Sherlocks time. As they walked over to the other side of the room, John and I were alone. "Lestrade doesn't know, does he?"

John just sighed and nodded. Before I could speak again, I heard a loud _"What?!"_ escape Lestrade's mouth. "And now, I think he does. I might go outside and hide for a bit before you get pestered with questions by Anderson. I'll tell Sherlock where you are when they're done. I'll calm Sherlock down and make sure he doesn't create a second murder scene in here today." I just nodded and thanked the Doctor. I started to walk out when, "I know you probably won't agree with this Scarlet, but you really do have a knack for this." I stopped, but didn't look back. I observed on his words momentarily, and then proceeded to wait outside for everyone else.

As I looked around the area, I couldn't help but notice the people were still very self-centered. For example, a man in a business suit was talking on his phone while he ran into an elderly lady. She was fine of course, but ten he has the gall to give her a dirty look. Typical.

"Hello," I heard break my thoughts. I turned around to see the officer from earlier. I took a closer look at him. He was a foot and a half taller than me; he had light-brown hair, and ocean blue eyes. He obviously was twenty-five, single, owned one chocolate lab along with a cat. Poor sleeper due to bags under his eyes; also slouched slightly and had a shy demeanor, indicating that he had a rough childhood. "What you did in there… it was… well, just fantastic."

I gave him a slight smirk, "Thanks, I hope you enjoyed that. Probably will be the first, and _only time you_ will see me do that." I stared at him, and sensed his nervousness. I held out my hand, "The name is Scarlet."

He smiled and returned the favor, "Noah Williams. But Noah was probably all you really needed."

I shrugged. "It's quite alright. Now if you gave me your bank information, that definitely would've made things _particular_ more awkward."

He chuckled, "It would also make me broke. Not that I'm saying you might, but neighboring ears and, um…" he trailed off as he felt his nerves pick back up.

I was about to say something to him again when I suddenly heard, "Come Scarlet, your mother wants to meet us back at Baker Street." He stopped once he noticed I wasn't alone. He studied him for a brief minute. "I would recommend going online; there are better results in the area you are looking for. Good day." And then, he just walked away.

"I apologize for Sherlock's...abrupt behavior."

He shrugged, and smirked. "I've had many encounters with him, it's alright. Just the way he his."

" _Scarlet!_ " I turned and saw the Doctor and Consulting Detective waiting for me across the way.

"I have to go, but nice to meet you." I heard him yelling something to me as a left, but I couldn't hear. I knew if I didn't go with the two men now, I wouldn't hear the end of it. " I turned and saw the Doctor and Consulting Detective waiting for me across the way.

"I have to go, but nice to meet you." I heard him yelling something to me as a left, but I couldn't hear. I knew if I didn't go with the two men now, I wouldn't hear the end of it.

A.N.

Hey Guys! I know it has been awhile since my last update. Writing this chapter was honestly a great way to release some stress! I hope you all enjoyed it! Than you all for being amazing!

Starlordjr out!


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: When parents fight, we eat Chinese

We started walking away from the Cathedral. Sherlock appeared to have a dark cloud floating over him; it had a little thunder. "So… I take it that Lestrade took the news well?"

John just gave me a brief look, stating I shouldn't say anything else. I took his silent advice. Sherlock walked ahead of John and I, obviously working and molding the puzzle pieces of the case in his head, along with the case of myself and my mother. I could tell by his tense body and the fiddling of his fingers behind his back. He felt overwhelmed, and was attempting to hide it.

"Your father is a good man you know." I took a sly glance at the Doctor who seemed to have also picked up Sherlock's emotions. "Yes he can be a pompous prick, but he will always come through for you." I looked at the Doctor and smiled at him.

"I am guessing you would both protect each other."

He nodded, "Along with Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson, and...your mother." I took his words and locked them in my mind so I wouldn't forget.

While returning home, I continued to understand my relatives. He was tense and guarded; he rarely let people in. However, he had a small circle that was allowed into his mind and soul: John, Lestrade, Mrs. Hudson… and my mother.

The evening had finally arrived. Mom decided to have us stay at Sherlock's flat. That way we would be under watch by Mycroft's men—and because the hotels were all booked for the season's tourists. John had to go and meet his daughter Rosie at the airport hours earlier, and said he might be back with her at the flat later that evening. However, for now it was the three of us.

Mum and Sherlock sat in his parlor in complete silence, just staring at the fire. She placed herself on John's usual seat, and Sherlock was on his own. They just continued to stare at the fire. I was on his sofa reading an article that was rather boring. It had been an hour, and I finally had enough. I had to say something to break the tension. "Alright. Why are you both acting awkward? Who saw who naked?"

They immediately turned toward my direction. "Good, now that I have your attention, I shall leave you alone for a small amount of time to go and get food. I can tell we are all obviously hungry, but we are all too stubborn and nervous to say anything. So, while I go get supper, you will talk and be civil. If I detect anything other than that, you are both in a heap of trouble."

"Scarlet!" exclaimed my mother. "We are perfectly capable of discussing this without you prompting us."

I gave my mother the look, "Really? If you guys were able to talk, why have you been staring at the fire for the past hour?" Before she could argue, I answered, "You both are too nervous and stubborn to say anything. Grow up, and talk. I should be back in a half hour. Does Chinese sound acceptable for the evening?"

There was silence, for a brief second. "You're not supposed to be alone, Scarlet. It is too risky."

I gave myself an internal smirk, and answered Sherlock. "So, it's safer for me to attend a murder scene than going down two blocks to get us dinner? Oh, and I forgot to mention that I have pepper spray. What are your thoughts?"

"Wait, what about a murder? Sherlock! Did you take Scarlet with you to one of your cases?!" My mum bellowed.

Sherlock gave me a look, _Guess pops didn't ask mommy first about going to a murder scene. Uh oh._

"Now Molly, I-"

"Oh, don't you Molly me, she is not going to

Any more murder scenes if she is here under your roof. How _dare_ you Sherlock!"

Sherlock scoffed, and rolled his eyes. My mother started to continue her tirade towards Sherlock, meaning I could skip out unnoticed. Estimating how heated it started, and how stubborn the two variables are, I have at least an hour and a half until they broke their argument. Plenty of time to go and get food then walk around.

As I started walking down the stairs, I saw John waking up with a young woman. She had long pale-blonde hair, was about a foot and a half shorter than myself, and had green eyes. Rosie, obviously.

"Ah Scarlet, this is Rosie. Rosie, Scarlet."

She smiled and held her hand out, I returned the favor. "Pleasure to meet you, shame it wasn't sooner…I mean it's not like you could have helped it and...I just keep on blabbering."

"Better to actually use your voice than stay quiet in my opinion Rosie." She smiled at my remark. Boy was she taking her breakup too hard.

John piped in, "Is that an argument I hear coming up there, from your...parents…?"

"Yes John, it just started. Mum didn't get informed of my outing with you and Sherlock today, and she is not exactly pleased about it. I suggest you go and let them talk for a bit. I mean it has been twenty some years so this is good. What kind of entree do you want for Chinese?" John looked startled.

"Well, I guess Rosie and I shall stay with Mrs Hudson for a bit…"

"Dad," said Rosie, "What if I went with Scarlet while you stayed with Mrs Hudson? That way she and I can 'gal pal' as you call it. I know what you like."

John shrugged and said why not. I on the other hand, did not like the sound of us gal palling whatsoever. "If that's alright with you Scarlet, of course."

I shrugged and motioned her to come along. "What do you want Mrs Hudson for Chinese?" I exclaimed as I exited the flat.

"Anything that doesn't have beef is fine with me dear," said the landlord.

As we walked the streets, I noticed how Rosie seemed almost free from the presence of her dad. We walked in silence towards the restaurant until I said something. "Pity about the breakup. Hopefully your father won't notice the pregnancy. Don't worry, I won't tell him. Just a tip, act normal with your ordering and eating so he won't notice." Her face turned pale, "Congratulations by the way."

She stopped in her tracks and looked like she was almost going to faint. "How did you…? I never said anything? How, what?"

I smirked, "Simple, you have obviously been crying based on your preference in wearing multiple dark layers of makeup to match your eyes. Also, your clothes are wrinkled but fashionable, showing how you're trying to feel comfortable but you are subconsciously avoiding being perfect at the moment. As for the pregnancy, you have a particular way you've started walking that no normal girl would travel unless they were feeling slightly uncomfortable. You also seem like you are hiding back sickness. Finally, you are wearing sneakers with a dress, and based on how well-dressed you are, you would never normally pick this outfit. There are other principles that would insult you, but I haven't bought you dinner yet, and I'm not rude like that."

She scoffed, then looked at the ground contemplating on what I said. Then, out of the blue, she started to laugh. "My, you are the well-mannered version of uncle Sherlock." I shrugged and continued to walk down the street. "What else can you deduce about me? I am now just bursting with curiosity."

"Now now, if you keep pushing me to read you like an open book, then _you're_ going to owe me dinner."

"Oh common, you know you want to show off more. Do not deny it. This is the perfect opportunity for you."

I smirked and gave her a side glance. "Fine. You are obviously a college Senior and decided to major in philosophy and a minor in sociology. Along with that, you just broke up with your boyfriend who did not react well to the news (not your fault and congratulations). You were taught hand-to-hand combat so if anyone _genius_ attacks you, they would be crippled. You also ate pickles with pancakes this morning for breakfast. Interesting craving might I add, might have to try it at some point."

I saw the giddy nature blossom through Rosie's eyes. "My _gosh,_ you are good. The only other person that skilled is Sherlock. I guess you can also deduce the fact of why I am nervous about this trip?"

I scoffed, "Of course. Your father doesn't know, and as soon as Sherlock sees you he will spill the secret and that will open up a whole can of worms for the rest of the night. Bad enough that your Uncle has a daughter he did not find out, but now yours will be a grandfather. I understand that Sherlock is a big show off and can't keep a real secret that isn't his own."

She nodded. "Mind if I read you now? It seems like you got to the end and figured out my central theme, seems fair that I take a gander." I didn't respond and she took it as a yes. We continued to walk, she studied my every move. "Alright, I think I have a brief synopsis. You are not a sociopath, but you have the tendencies of one. You are also slightly sociable, but only when the need calls for it. You don't care about attracting the other sex or else you would be showing off your figure. Finally, you don't care to show off but assure people if they are nervous. Compassion perhaps?"

I checked and smirked, "I can tell my father taught you a few tricks over the years huh?" I asked.

"Yes. Said I couldn't be clueless like my father forever."

"Oh common, your dad isn't that oblivious."

"He got a call from the same woman, neighbor mind you, asking for small favors for three months. Still doesn't realize she's coming onto him."

I shook my head and laughed, "He's better with people in a professional environment than social, let's just put it at that. At least your father doesn't make the strongest crumble with his personality."

Rosie gave a lighthearted laugh, "Alright, you got me there."

I smiled. We stopped when we saw the restaurant. As soon as we placed the order, we had to wait for fifteen minutes. During that time, Rosie and I sat down and talked some more.

Compared to her father, she had made herself an individual. Yes, she was gullible and cared for people in a weird way that her father did. However, she had a history. Probably because of her mother being dead a majority of her life and growing up around Sherlock. If anyone tried to hurt her, they would be pinned down to the ground.

Rosie also had a personality that was, well, unique. She seemed to be comfortable around large groups(unlike myself). However, she didn't seem to care for the spotlight. All she wanted to do was to be a part of something important. I guess she is on that track as of now.

"So," Rosie broke my deductions. "I know you haven't been here for, well, long. But, I was curious how you-"

"You mean how I feel about the whole greatest consulting detective being my genetic link?" I interjected. Rosie just nodded. "All I can say is at least he isn't a hoodlum your mother regrets for the rest of your life; just a druggie she doesn't want to look back at." She just nodded and continued to study me. She observed me like a patient in a post-mortem. Trying to figure out the reasons why I tick-and-tock. Or in this case, how my gears turn to make me function. "Let me guess," I started, "You are wondering if I currently attend a University, and if I do, what am I studying?" Rosie nodded. "Figured as much. Well, since you seem to have a true grasp on deduction, care to take a dive? I mean, I can't have all the fun witnessing people's priceless expressions."

Rosie chuckled and studied me. When she is in deep thought, and rubbed her fingers together to make a slight background sound for her thoughts to flow through her mind. "When you are in deep thought and observation, you move your fingers like you are playing the piano. I am guessing you enjoy music, so you are studying music, is that correct?"

I motioned my hand for a _partial_ correct. "Not bad. Yes, I have studied music. I already attend a music school and have earned a degree in music composition. However, there is another detail that is obvious, but you have not announced it yet, but probably suspect it."

Rosie studied me again, then smirked in victory. "Sociology. I am disappointed I didn't say anything sooner." I shrugged and chuckled. This girl was fun, smart, and feisty. I liked it. "So why the two? Both fields of study are completely different from one another...so why?"

I smirked and could hear the fine of a bell in the background. "Elementary Rosie, Sociology is the study of human behavior correct? Music can be used to study this behavior. Both opposing fields as you put it, are like yin and yang; they can complement each other." She looked perplexed. "Only I truly understand at the moment, but in the future, it will be revolutionary." I turned around and handed the payment to the transactor. As soon as the woman left, I made friends with Rosie, and held the food in the air "I think everyone should be ready to dig in by the time we're done, don't you agree?"

"It was one severed head, you don't have to keep harping about it. It was over twenty years ago," Rosie and I entered the flat and heard this part of the parents quarrel. It was amusing; like an old married couple, but more like two adults who just learned to co-parent. _Oh joy._

"Well _Sherlock_ , it does become a big deal when it revolves around a case and my kid!" Rosie and I looked at each other, and chuckled. Then, just like a dog hearing the dog whistle for its master, John and Mrs Hudson came out once they smelt the MSG hit their nostrils.

The group and I started walking up to Sherlock's flat; mum and he seemed to have lost the concept of time since it had been almost an hour of their _conversation_. "My oh my, hopefully mummy and daddy make up," I stated in a cynical tone which earned a snicker from Rosie and Mrs. Hudson. I carefully placed the food on the coffee-table while John got the tableware.

Mum and Sherlock were still arguing over the fireplace, unaware of their audience. It was comical really. "She is not the average young woman Molly!"

"Exactly Sherlock, which is why I don't want your dangerous career stopping her! She needs to follow her own path, not yours! Just because she has the ability to solve cases, t _hat does not mean she should do that!_ t She is her own person Sherlock!"

"Can you pass the spring rolls please?" asked John, which somehow broke the argument my parents were having. They just stared at us in shock while we continued to serve ourselves.

"What is all this?!" examined my mum.

"It was late, we were hungry, I got us food. Simple and such. Oh, and Rosie got here too. Spring roll?"

Third Person P.O.V.

Sherlock looked at the scene before him, completely baffled. He had gotten so wrapped up in his argument with Molly(he probably enjoyed it too much to be honest). "...Spring Roll?" Scarlet held a Chinese box of spring rolls towards him and Molly.

"How long have we been at it?" asked Molly.

Scarlet shook her head in thought , "Thirty to Forty minutes."

Molly shook her head and rubbed her face in annoyance , "Oh goodness…"

"It's alright, it happens to the best of us." Rosie then grabbed a wonton, and placed it into her mouth intensely.

Sherlock observes the young woman, finding each puzzle piece that held a clue to why she seemed to look ill. The next thing he knew, Sherlock was being served food once he figured out what was the matter. "Rosie, you're—"

Scarlet jumped up and grabbed the detective and brought him to the lower part of the flat, "I saw this wonderful picture and was wondering if you could help me figure out what era it was made, I am truly curious."

Sherlock was reluctantly pulled down the stairs, and out of the flat in the freezing cold. Scarlet let go of his shirt, and stared him down. "Do not tell John."

He was slightly confused as to why. "Don't tell John what?"

She gave him a dirty look, "About Rosie. I know you picked it up as soon as you noticed her."

"Oh… the fact that she is pregnant?"

"Yes."

 _Who told her she could talk to me like this?_ \- , "Why on Earth not?"

Scarlet sighed, "It isn't your story to tell. She needs to tell him herself so she can explain what happened. If you just say that your niece is pregnant, it will make the situation worse than what it is. It might cause problems that are unwarranted if you spot off your trap about Rosie."

Sherlock studies his daughter. At this current moment, he learned something new about his daughter. She did not try to hide her compassion the way he and Mycroft did; it was embraced by her. Instead of hiding her emotions to hide weakness, it made her stronger. "Alright, I will _keep my trap shut_ as you put it."

Scarlet nodded, and left him to go back to their group, leaving him by himself with his thoughts.

Molly had always shown her emotions on her sleeve, while he hid his under lock and key. Scarlet, she had her emotions in her back pocket and brought them out as a weapon when desired. To him, this was an unnatural phenomenon.

 _I truly do not know my daughter,_ thought Sherlock. The man who could read everyone by a simple conversation; the detective who could spout off a person's life story by a stain on their shirt; Sherlock Holmes, the man who knew everyone, failed to understand who his daughter was.

Maybe these next few days will allow them to understand one another better than what they thought was possible. As he continues to think on the matter, Sherlock walks back to the flat, awaiting the next round of the bitter evening.

A.N.

 _Hello! I apologize for the long gap of silence when it came to publishing this chapter. I also wanted to say that I hope you are all doing well during this...challenging time._

 _I am going to get a little personal here right now. I know that this is a very scary time, and we have no idea what is going on and when it will get better, but I feel like having a positive outlook right now will help. Even though we cannot be as physically close right now as we wish, if we are still connected for each other emotionally, everything will be alright._

 _I want to say thank you for reading this little rant, and if you feel scared or alone, that is not true. We are all here together on an emotional level, and we will get through this. Have a good evening!_

 _Starlord Jr. Out!_


End file.
